


Lyrical

by Fortunaiise



Series: New Game ± [1]
Category: Persona 3, Shin Megami Tensei Series
Genre: Audio version of visualizing, But mostly Just Orpheus, Gen, Other Personas, Personas as an internal voice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-09
Updated: 2016-08-09
Packaged: 2018-08-07 17:57:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7724248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fortunaiise/pseuds/Fortunaiise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For as long as Makoto could remember, there had been music in his head. Part of New Game ±.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lyrical

For as long as Makoto Yuuki had been alive, there had been the sound of a harp. Well, when he was a kid, he'd thought it was a harp. Once he'd gotten older, he'd identified it as a Lyre - one day, no explanation. He just knew. He never spoke of the subject with his parents - rather, he'd been a bit concerned that they'd laud him as a musical genius, parade him around their extended social network like his uncle had with his daughter before she had fled.

They wouldn't have, he knew now, but his childish fears had felt overwhelmingly large back then.

There were, of course, other instruments, other music. They never really stayed long - which was a shame, he'd loved that sweet angelic chorus who had greeted him once - instead cycling through his mind in a constant, swirling symphony of affection and occasional displeasure. He could name their instruments, their origin - and after some help from the Lyre, he could even play them.

He could even sing. Not quite on the level of an angel unfortunately, and so the angelic chorus that had visited once in the hazy depths of his memories never came again to join him when he sang, trying hard to speak to it, to coax it back to his side.

Lyre had been understanding, but sad. In the end, Lyre had told him it was not to be, that the music he tried so hard to emulate. He never understood why. It was music, it was the truest form of expression he would ever have, so why was it denied to him?

For the first time, the music did not speak to him. Lyre was so devastatingly quiet, as were the rest, before Lyre, at long last, spoke the words he would never forget.

_The chorus represents a terrible fate. I truly hope you never have to experience the music more than you have._ Those words, however little sense they made to him, none of the less ensured he never attempted to ask for the music again.

He did wish, of course, idle thoughts and mild curiosity - but he never pursued. And when he mulled the music over in his mind, he realized how sad the song had been, even if the words they had spoken in lyric and rhyme made no sense to him.

But he waited. Sound was constant, and Lyre would not abandon him. And until then, he had glass chimes and steel drums, guitar solos and harps, violins and a constant echoing symphony that held the world away from him and kept those near him far away.

Music was his, and he belonged to music. All other attachments were needless.

**Author's Note:**

> This is before the events of New Game ±, but covers a the years of Makoto's life from before his parents died to just before he heads to Port Island.


End file.
